идеальный
by Autumnfallsonme
Summary: When Alfred has a bad day, Ivan surprises him by knowing exactly what to say.


Sometimes Alfred really hated himself. He couldn't help it, sometimes the things that his supposed friends said to him got to him. Like for instance, earlier, when he went to lunch with his friends Arthur and Francis, they had made it a point to criticize almost every move he made. They told him he should really have more manners, actually act like a presentable person.

But that wasn't what made him break, holding back tears as he made an excuse to leave their lunch date early. No, it was when they told him that all the burgers he was eating were catching up to him, making his middle look soft. At first, he just excused himself to the restroom, feeling hurt. But when he locked the door and looked at himself- really looked at himself in the mirror, he saw what they were talking about and it made him feel utterly disgusting.

As he lifted up his light blue polo, he examined his stomach. His once muscular stomach had now lost its six pack, instead just leaving a flat expanse of stomach, nothing special about it. He squeezed his sides, wincing as a bit of skin rose as he pulled it. He really was getting bigger. Avoiding the urge to be sick, Alfred splashed cold water onto his face, hoping to relieve the angry blush that coved his face. After throwing on a fake smile, he walked stiffly back to the table, not bothering to sit down and finish the other half of his plate of food.

"Hey, I'm so sorry guys, but something came up. I know, how can I be so uncool, right? But maybe we can do this again sometime." He grit out through a fake smile.

The Frenchman and Englishman fell for it, nodding at him and saying their own goodbyes, opting to stay here and finish their own lunches. As he walked out of the small diner located a few blocks from his apartment, Alfred wrapped his arms around himself, despite the last warm breaths of fall. Instead of calling Ivan to pick him up like he usually would, Alfred began down the winding path that would lead him home within a few minutes.

As Alfred walked, he couldn't help but glance at the people he passed, feeling as if each one was judging him in their minds. He curled up into himself a bit more as unsettling thoughts filled his mind. _Everyone probably thinks I'm fat. I mean, even my friends do. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone who saw me thought I looked like a whale. What about Ivan? Gosh, if Artie and Francis noticed through my clothes… does that mean that Ivan probably notices whenever I don't have clothes on? What if he thinks I'm disgusting too? What if he doesn't want to be with me anymore because I let myself go? Ugh, I can't believe myself. I need to go to the gym. Every day. Or stop eating. Or both. _

By the time the American arrived to his apartment, he was on the verge o tears and had made a mental list of every flaw he could find about himself. As quietly as he could, he eased his key in the lock, hoping that Ivan didn't come to greet him. Alfred just wasn't ready for that yet. After pushing the door open, and looking around, he finally closed the door behind him and stepped inside the apartment. In the living room, he heard the television on, some midday program running. Ivan was probably watching it. Either that or he had fallen asleep again as the television droned on in the background.

Quickly, Alfred walked behind the couch noting the lump laying there. After dropping of his jacket and scarf in his room, he went into the adjoined bathroom and locked the door beside him, sliding down to sit on the floor next to the door. After taking off his shirt and his tight jeans, he curled up on himself, head resting on his knees. After the waves of nausea passed, he was finally able to stand up on shaky legs and look at himself fully in the mirror.

His face was average, blue eyes and blond hair making his face look lightly tanned. But the glasses perched on his nose took away from the effect slightly. He allowed his eyes to trail down, examining the way his collarbones raised slightly, appearing on the milky shin of his chest, the way his hip bones jut out, making him look slightly smaller. That effect was ruined though by the softness of his middle, adding a soft curve to his hips. Overall, he supposed he wasn't that bad looking, but the more he looked at himself, the more things he found wrong with himself.

His examination was cut off when he heard a knock on the door and the voice of his boyfriend, Ivan. "Alfred, I did not hear you come in. Are you okay?" He asked, his voice kind and reminding the American of his earlier fear of not being good enough for him.

Through a tear-choked voice, Alfred tried to let out a fake assuring smile, rubbing at his neck with one hand and flinging the other arm over his stomach. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. I just uh, I don't really feel good." He said lamely, hoping the Russian wouldn't hear the obvious lie in his voice.

It was almost deathly silent on the other side before Alfred heard a response. "Alfred, are you crying?"

Alfred wiped at his eyes, noting that yes there were tears, but they didn't fall with his permission. He was a hero. Heroes didn't cry. After sniffing, he opened his mouth to reassure Ivan. "No, I'm-I'm fine." It would have been more convincing if his voice hadn't broken in the middle of the statement and made him sound choked up.

On the other side of the door, he heard the rustling of fabric, and shuffling. For a brief moment, Alfred had thought Ivan had left. Then the lock was being unlocked and the doorknob was turning and Alfred had just enough time to sit down and attempt to hide as much of himself as possible by curling up into the corner, facing the large tub.

It was quiet for a moment before the American heard the confused voice of his Russian boyfriend from above. "Alfred?"

The younger looked up, curling his body so only his back was visible to the standing man. "Y-Yeah?"

"What are you doing on the floor? Are you not feeling well?" The Russian inquired, sounding genuinely worried.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just… Artie and Francis aren't exactly the nicest people sometimes." He answered his boyfriend truthfully.

Sitting onto the tile besides Alfred, Ivan looked over the man next to him. As far as he could tell, the pair hadn't touched him. "Did they hurt you?"

The American looked down before timidly shaking his head. "No. They just told me something that I hadn't realized before."

"What exactly would that be, дорогой?"

Alfred lowered his head, curling into himself tighter. He shook his head, indicating that he had no intention of answering the question while thick tears began to flood his eyes. After a few rolled quickly off his cheek, the Russian lifted the other into his lap. His boyfriend weakly fought the notion for a few moments before clinging tightly and burying his face into the base of his neck.

"Please don't cry возлюбленный. You know I hate it whenever you do. Tell me what happened so I can make it better." He coaxed, planting butterfly kisses onto Alfred's face at the sentence breaks.

After sniffing loudly, the blue-eyed man raised his head to look at Ivan. "Do- Do you think I'm f-fat?" He whimpered, tears filling his eyes as he averted his eyes, expecting the worst possible answer.

For a moment, all the Russian could do was stare in confusion at his lover. The man was nowhere near overweight. So that had been what he was beating himself up over. His size.

Slowly, Ivan shifted Alfred in his lap so that his boyfriend was straddling him. He could tell how uncomfortable the American was with being exposed like this, but Ivan saw no other choice. This had to be done.

"Alfred, I don't think you are anywhere near fat. I think you are perfect." He stated softly, lifting a resistant head up to look into puffy blue eyes.

Alfred blinked and looked down, a blush covering his slightly tanned skin. "How can you say that? I look disgusting."

Ivan shook his head. "No. Stop it, Alfred. You do not know what you're even saying anymore." He accused, holding Alfred's face up with hands on either side of his head. "You can't even see it can you? How beautiful you are?"

The American snorted, his eyes dull. "I'm anything but beautiful. You don't have to lie."

"I'm not lying to you. Why would I, дорогой?"

"Because you pity me. You know that if you let me go, no one else will want me-" he was cut off by a chaste kiss from Ivan before he could continue.

"Stop and listen, you stupid American." Ivan pleaded softly, with a smile, indicating that the insult had no meaning. "I don't think you're fat, or 'disgusting' at all. I think you're beautiful. You are the only one I ever want to see like this because I know no one else could compare to you. I love the size you are right now. I love how easily you fit into my arms at night or how we fit like a puzzle when we hug. I love the way your body quivers when we're alone at night, or how your body reacts whenever I do something you love. I love how easily your skin allows me to mark it red and purple. I love every part of you, Альфред. Why don't you?"

Alfred launched himself at Ivan, wrapping himself around his boyfriend as if he were hanging on for dear life. The Russian knew not to push it and just settled for slowly stoking the blond hair, waiting for his American to come up with the words to respond.

"Are you just saying that too make me feel better?" The smaller man mumbled, barely audible.

Ivan shook his head and trailed his hands down Alfred's back, rememorizing the lines and curves of wherever he could touch. "No, дорогой. I really do love every part of you. Don't listen to what they say. You are perfect, just like this." He said softly, grazing the pale column of neck in front of him with his lips as he spoke, accenting his speech with tiny kisses here and there.

Smiling softly, the American allowed himself to be smothered in light kisses, feeling much better about himself than before. After shifting slightly, the Russian stood, easily carrying the weight of the shorter man. After leading them into their shared bedroom, Ivan let Alfred bounce onto the bed as he was released.

"Now that I've told you how I feel возлюбленный, I believe it is now time to show you, да?"

Alfred didn't get a chance to answer as his lips were covered with Ivan's, their bodies molding together as they struggled to get off as much clothing as possible. Lucky for them, they were pretty experienced in that area.


End file.
